


Felled by You, Held by You

by acquitarte



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Damen and Laurent talk about feelings, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Nikandros needs to learn how to knock, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acquitarte/pseuds/acquitarte
Summary: Laurent has some hang ups that are worsened by Nikandros's inability to knock. Damen is just glad to no longer be bedridden.





	Felled by You, Held by You

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before "How Much to Give and How Much to Take."

Laurent frowned and pulled out another report from the stack. His frown deepened as he skimmed the page. The frown transformed into a scowl as he flipped back to the previous document. It technically wasn’t his place to be dealing with any of this - not yet - but Kastor clearly hadn’t done a single useful thing during his brief reign. There was much to catch up on, and if he could help sort through some of it while Damen recovered, well, why wouldn’t he?

Besides, Damen needed the rest. He’d insisted on riding through the city after his formal coronation that morning, something both Laurent and Paschal had tried to talk him out of, but had at least agreed to avoid any strenuous activity for another few days. 

Laurent sighed and shuffled between the stacks, searching for something that might reconcile the conflicting reports. He leaned back in the heavy wooden chair and allowed himself to envy Damen for exactly one brief moment before he let the four legs fall back to the floor. 

“Hey.” Laurent turned in the chair to see Damen watching him. Judging by the look on his face, he had been for some time. 

He pulled one knee up to face Damen more comfortably. “Someone deserves to be flogged for this,” he replied, holding up the three reports. 

“Come here,” Damen said, equal parts request and command. He hated it sometimes - how easily it seemed to come to him, how naturally he was a king. 

“Damianos, you might have an excuse to lay around in bed all day but I don’t. There is more than six weeks of work here,” he added pointedly. 

“And there will still be more than six weeks of work there in an hour. I would come there, but I’ve been told I must rest, you see.”

Laurent tried to frown at him, but he felt the moment the corner of his mouth betrayed him and knew it was lost. It was worth it for the expression on Damen’s face as he stood and crossed the room to stand beside the bed. 

“Come here,” Damen grumbled, tugging at his wrist to pull him closer. 

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, knee pressed against Damen’s hip. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine, except for this swelling that I woke up with.”

“Let me see, should I get-” he started, eyes narrowing as he realized what Damen was referring to. “Damen.”

Damen laughed, his smile bright and wide and honest; it did something oddly painful in Laurent’s chest, so that he had to look away. He carefully pulled the blanket back and checked the neat stitches that still held Damen together. If anyone asked him, Laurent would say that he ran his fingers over the skin to make sure that there was no sign of infection, but in truth he did it more for an excuse to touch than anything. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Damen said carefully. Laurent wasn’t sure if Damen had misread his actions or had understood them better than he did. 

“You’re supposed to be recovering,” Laurent reminded him. “No unnecessary physical activity.”

“No strenuous activity,” Damen corrected. “I really am ok - I promise.”

Laurent narrowed his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie in Damen’s countenance. He found none. He looked over the forming scar, but that, too, looked better than expected. Then, finding no reason not to internally or externally, he leaned forward and kissed Damen. 

In spite of being the one to initiate the contact, it still caught him strangely off guard. Something in the ease with which Damen accepted it, opened up for it. The unabashed hunger, the wanting, made something stir in Laurent’s gut. When Damen pulled away, he prepared to force the feeling down. Instead, Damen slid a hand into his hair and kissed the exposed skin of his neck. The gentle scrape of teeth and stubble made him shiver. 

He felt the hitch in his breathing, the quickening of his pulse, just before he tensed at the reflexive spike of panic as Damen’s hands tightened, one in his hair, the other on his thigh. He felt Damen notice, too. Felt his mouth still where it worked under his jaw, his grip going slack. Laurent worked to regain his composure before Damen met his eyes. 

Damen didn’t pull away, not entirely, but some of his intensity softened. Laurent felt the trace of his thumb against his jaw, turned his face into the touch. It was his turn, then, to surprise Damen as he kissed his palm. I’m sorry, he didn’t say as he pressed his lips against the soft skin of Damen’s wrist, willing his breathing to even out. 

When he met Damen’s eyes again, he couldn’t help but huff a quiet laugh. His look of concern was at odds with his hooded gaze and an erection that now could not be missed. Laurent took a slow breath as he worked one boot off, then the other. He’d already taken his overcoat off - it was too hot here to wear so many layers comfortably, and after all, he was in private. But still, Laurent had to remind himself that he was not nearly as exposed as he felt. That Damen had already seen all of him, knew all of him, what he’d done, and still wanted him inexplicably. 

He swallowed the feeling down and moved to straddle Damen’s lap, careful not to settle too much of his weight down or bother Damen’s healing wound. Shifting as he got somewhat comfortable, he rubbed against Damen through the layers of clothing and blankets. Arousal and repulsion swirled through him in conflicting waves as he actively fought for the former. Damen made a choked, hungry noise as his hips bucked up of their own accord. 

“Tease,” he accused with a smile. 

Laurent smiled back, hating how much of a struggle it was. It was Damen he reminded himself. They’d done all of this and more before and it had been- a shiver raced down his spine at the memory of it. He leaned forward, taking Damen’s face in his hands as he kissed him again, trying to make it clear that he wanted this - wanted him. 

The sound Damen made against his lips was somewhere between a moan and a growl, unselfconscious and wanting, and at last Laurent felt himself start to rise to the occasion. His sigh was equal parts an echo of Damen’s vocalization and relief. In calculated increments, Laurent began to relax against Damen. 

He knew the moment that he ceded control over the exchange to Damen. It was easier to let him make these decisions; he had a better framework of experiences to work with, after all. Damen’s hands wrapped around his thighs again, pulling him closer as they kissed. For all that Laurent sometimes struggled with it, there was no comparing the experiences. One was like being torn apart and the other was like burning up on the inside only to be remade, again and again. 

He was overtaken by the physical sensations of it all. Damen’s hands on his legs, his back, his stomach, his jaw. The smell of Damen’s skin, his sweat, and something else nameless and heavy that hung in the air. The buzzing sensation that was constant in his lips and fleeting each time Damen rolled his hips against him. 

Somehow, Damen had gotten the front of his shirt unlaced, his palms hot and heavy against Laurent’s skin. He shuddered at the contact, needing some way to make Damen feel even a fraction of what he felt. Feeling bold, he ground down against Damen and got a groan for his efforts. 

“Are you?” he didn’t get the ok out before Damen licked into his mouth. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he said after, then kissed Laurent like he needed it to live. “And if I can help it, I’m not going to hurt you. Not again.” Something in the way he said it, in the genuine tenderness of it, shattered Laurent’s defenses. 

“Damen,” was all he managed to say against the skin over Damen’s collarbone. He only had a moment to wonder when Damen had gotten so comfortable with Veretian laces before he was being directed out of the rest of his clothing, before Damen was blanketing him with his body, warm and heavy and close. It should have made him feel trapped, he knew, and it did but in a way where trapped and safe meant something similar. 

For a brief moment, there was space between them as Damen fumbled with something in a drawer and then he was back. Laurent traced a line up his throat with the tip of his nose, breathing in the scent of him and letting his bottom lip drag in its wake. Damen pressed a sloppy kiss to his temple at the same time that his fingers found their target between his legs. 

Laurent hit another wall of resistance, then. It was almost worsened by how gentle Damen was with him. Like he might shatter apart at any moment. He might, a voice screamed in the back of his mind. Again, he fought down the rising nausea, letting out a gasp against Damen’s chest as he was forced to choose between the friction of Damen’s cock against his own and the press of Damen’s fingers. 

The mattress sank as Damen settled his full weight onto his knees, taking them both in hand as he worked Laurent open. He was so big, and so hard compared to Laurent’s half-readied state. Laurent tried to ignore the noise of frustration that escaped him as he pushed up onto his elbows to reach Damen’s mouth. His change of position forced him deeper onto Damen’s fingers, and he couldn’t help the cry that followed. 

He knew that Damen was muttering things against his skin, his hair. Felt the mix of Akielon and Veretian in the brush of Damen’s lips as much as he heard it, but couldn’t make his brain pick up on the words. The only thing that mattered, really, was the way it made him feel. The warmth at that worked its way through his body like a flower in bloom, unfolding inexplicably against his bones. 

“Turn over?” Damen asked, commanded, against his shoulder. Again, in that naturally king-like tone of his. Laurent hated it. Loved it. So he turned over. And then Damen was sliding into him. It was too much and not enough. He felt it in his entire body and wanted more. 

Cradled between Damen’s bulk and the mattress, he felt safe. Whole. And at last, when Damen was pressed against him so deep that Laurent could taste it in the back of his throat, he felt the last of his defenses crumble. There was no stopping his moan, then. 

Damen supported both of their weights on his elbows, one arm wrapped around Laurent’s torso, the other hand stroking Laurent’s dick in a dragging rhythm with each rolling thrust of his hips. He felt Damen nose at the back of his neck through his hair. Felt him mouth at the joint of his neck and shoulder. Felt his increasingly erratic breath against his skin. 

It was impossible to fight the building tension at the base of his spine, not that he wanted to. He was alive with it. He relished in the demanding thrusts of Damen’s hips against him, the claiming scrape of his nails and teeth. Damen’s weight shifted against him, pulling a sharp cry from one of them. Sparks shot across his vision, or the black of his eyelids, with each new thrust. 

Inevitably, the pressure began to build, and Laurent had to struggle against that, too. Not against, he reminded himself. This was not that. He made him focus on the feeling of Damen surrounding him on all sides, the smell of him, the slick slide of their bodies against each other. 

He felt Damen tense and start to pulse inside of him at the same time he heard a sound near the door. That was enough to put him over the edge, Damen’s hand stroking him through it as he came against the sheets with a cry. 

“Damianos - oh.” 

Laurent heard Nikandros shut the door behind him (no one else would have been so informal, especially on the day of Damen’s coronation), but couldn’t bring himself to look and see if he was inside or out. He couldn’t deal with that, right now. Damen sagged against him, his weight crushing but comforting, as they both waited for their breathing to even out. Damen kissed the back of his shoulder once, then again, before he pulled out and collapsed against the mattress. 

He had almost dozed off when Damen said “You needed something, Nikandros?”

Nikandros cleared his throat from somewhere across the room. “Nothing, Exalted. I simply wished to discuss our plans for the coming days with you.”

Laurent wanted to disappear into the mattress. “Why are you on this side of the door?” he asked, knowing his tone was dripping acid. 

He didn’t have to look to know Nikandros bristled at that. Nikandros opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. “Exalted, I would have a word when you have a moment.”

As soon as Damen said “Of course,” he was out the door again. 

The moment he heard it close, Laurent slid off the bed and went to find something to clean himself off with before he dressed again. He ground his jaw in agitation as he felt Damen deflate behind him, pulled the laces tighter in response. It was only once the last of them were tightened, tied, and tucked away that he turned to face Damen. 

“If there isn’t anything else, exalted?” he mock asked before he walked out of the room, leaving Damen alone. 

Laurent sagged against the wall a few paces around the corner. He knew it wasn’t fair, really, to react like that. Damen hadn’t done anything. Well, except make his legs not work. 

He should have expected that Damen would find him, later. After all, no one knew his palace better than he did. Laurent wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, staring out at the sun, now hanging low over the sea. He hadn’t cried. Not that anyone could ever confirm. Somewhere on his way to the gardens, he’d run into Lazar and ordered that he not be disturbed. Apparently at some point he, too, had turned traitor and allowed Damen in. 

He hadn’t said anything as he’d approached. Hadn’t announced himself in any way. But Laurent had known it was him. Instead, he quietly settled himself at Laurent’s side, resting his elbows on the marble balustrade as he looked out over the crashing waves. Even like that, leaning casually, he still effectively dwarfed Laurent. 

Wordlessly, he took one of Laurent’s hands in his own and kissed the back of his hand once. It was a simple, casual gesture that somehow only served to stoke the fire eating at him. He tried unsuccessfully to quell it. 

“If it’s worth anything, he apologized,” Damen said finally, his voice a quiet rumble against the skin of Laurent’s hand. 

Laurent shrugged dismissively, still not looking at him. “Why would I care about his opinion, or his apology? In six weeks I will be the King of Vere. It is beneath me,” he replied harshly. 

He heard Damen’s slow exhale, knew the expression he must be wearing. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care. He was just… Stuck. 

Damen stood and turned to face him, gently pulling Laurent to him when he still refused to face him. “You do remember what comes after that,” Damen said against the top of his head. “If you’ll still have me, that is.”

Laurent exhaled sharply against Damen’s chest. “I remember,” he said finally. 

“Now, I won’t speak for all of Vere, but I’m fairly confident that there are some general conclusions that come with that.”

“No, Damianos, those are exactly the conclusions that are the issue.” He pulled away; he knew he was being foolish, but that didn’t stop him. 

He sighed again. “What’s wrong?” Damen crowded him against the balustrade - it should have been irritating, but there was something oddly comforting about his proximity. 

Laurent looked away. “It’s one thing for them to talk, to make the logical assumption. It’s another for them to have confirmation.”

“Laurent,” he said, impossibly fond. In spite of his bristling, Damen pulled him back in. “You cannot think that Nikandros is going to talk to anyone about… what he saw. It’s hardly the first time.” Damen added it carelessly, but it tugged at something in Laurent’s chest. He leaned down to kiss Laurent’s temple. 

“It is tradition,” he said with a sigh, “that the royal marriage is consummated publicly. Not that they ever expected that from me; it was Auguste’s fate to bear, after all, and he had little shame. You two are a lot alike, in that way. And then after, well. There stopped being much expectation of a royal wedding. So now that there is to be one, there has been talk of resuming said tradition.”

Damen rested his mouth against the top of his head; it wasn’t a kiss, exactly. It was something softer, more intimate, than that. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” he eventually answered. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it, until recently.”

“I would, if you wanted it.”

“Not like that,” he managed. The thought of an audience made him nauseous. 

“But you do want to?” 

“I- honestly hadn’t really thought about it until it came up. Not in any definitive sense.” The memory of it, their last real night together before everything in Ios, sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I may not be trained for it, but I would do everything in my power to give you the experience you deserve.” Laurent shuddered at the words, at the feeling of Damen against him. 

“How do you just say things like that?” 

“Because they’re true.”

“Have you thought about it?” he asked, disbelieving. 

He felt Damen’s smile against his hair. “Of all the things going on in your head, you really don’t think about that?”

“About what, being the one to fuck you into the mattress?” he knew the question came out harsher than intended. 

He didn’t have to see Damen’s face to know the hurt face he made as he said, “If that’s how you want to put it.”

He hated it, when Damen just accepted it like that. He didn’t deserve it. 

“Stop that,” Damen ordered quietly, even though he hadn’t said anything aloud. 

When he protested, Damen said “I could hear you thinking. And I doubt it’s anything good - it never is when you’re like this.”

“I thought it would be easier, once he was gone,” he admitted, as uncomfortable as it felt. “I somehow forgot that the rest of it - courtiers, guards, all of the day to day - would still be more or less the same. And regardless of the fact that much of what he told them was a fabrication, he was always careful to keep a grain of truth in there. I can’t undo the parts that are true.” Laurent sighed and rested his forehead against the broad muscle of Damen’s chest. “Couldn’t even if I wanted to. It’s not as if it takes much creativity to imagine how things work between us,” he added bitterly. 

Damen pulled back just enough to look at him. Laurent forced himself to hold his gaze. “Would it make you feel better if I explained it to them? That I do it because you deserve to have one thing that is easy? That isn’t a source of stress, of constant thought?” As he spoke, Damen ducked his head to nose alone Laurent’s jawline, over the tendons in his throat. “That I do it because it is important to me that you only know comfort and pleasure?” His lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, now. “That knowing that you are happy and cared for is what does it for me, rather than having anything to do with who spreads for whom?”

“Damen,” he tried to interrupt, angry at the way his voice sounded. 

“I’m not done yet. Do you want to know what I’ve imagined?” he asked against the pulse point in Laurent’s throat. 

Laurent nodded once, tense. 

“Because they are fools to think that you couldn’t - that you wouldn’t excel at it as naturally as you do anything else you’ve chosen to take on. Whenever the time comes - if ever - that you decide that that is what you want, I will be more than happy to give it. And I have no doubt that it will surpass every expectation I have for the experience.” This time it was Damen who shuddered involuntarily against him. “You have already ruined me for anyone else.” The naked honesty of it - the way Damen just said things like that, in broad daylight in the very public palace gardens - gutted him. 

Laurent knew without having to see it that his cheeks were flushed. To anyone else, he would lie and claim it an effect of the heat. “How do you say things like that so simply?”

“Practice,” said the Damen of his thoughts; it was true, even if he didn’t say it. The real Damen said, “You forget we are not in Vere. Some people speak plainly and honestly.” The corners of Damen’s mouth turned up at the gentle jab, and Laurent found himself wanting to touch them. Instead, Laurent repressed the discomfort at their public setting and pushed up onto his toes to kiss him. 

The shocked noise he made outweighed Laurent’s dislike of being exposed like this, and Laurent found himself smiling against Damen’s lips. Fortunately, Damen’s Akielon sensibilities were aligned with his own interests in this; were he Veretian, he would likely try to take Laurent right there in the garden. As it stood, his advances only extended to sliding his hands down to Laurent’s hips, still over his layers of clothing. 

“Inside,” Laurent said against his mouth, ignoring how rough his voice sounded. 

“Give me a moment,” Damen replied, his breathing audibly unsteady. Laurent laughed quietly at that. He wasn’t sure if it would ever cease to amaze him how quickly, how easily Damen roused. Equally surprising was how the thought did not repulse him. Rather, it was coming to have a similar effect on him, if much more slowly. 

When he eventually kissed Laurent on the temple and stepped away, Laurent noticed that his chiton hung normally. “Unless the Crown Prince of Vere had other plans, I had hoped we could dine privately tonight?”

The days leading up to Damen’s coronation had been busy; Laurent had anticipated the same amount of ceremony that was common in Vere, but the reality had been quite simple. Damen had dined with the kyroi each night, discussing plans for the future of their joined nations. That morning, they had each pledged their continued loyalty to the King of Akielos, as well as to the fledgling relationship between Akielos and Vere. It was unprecedented; Laurent hadn’t believed it would actually happen until he saw it, and then just as quickly, it was over. Just another ordinary day. 

And then Damen had returned to his rooms and gone to sleep. He felt his pulse quicken as he thought of what came after. “Damianos, surely there are more pressing matters to attend to-”

“They can wait.” He was so assured, so certain. Laurent nodded, helpless against the look in Damen’s eyes. 

Evidently Damen had planned for his acceptance, for when they returned to his chambers, the table had already been laid out for them. As they ate and talked, Laurent felt himself begin to relax in tiny, sharp increments. It all came to a skidding halt when the door opened, but it was a pair of servants coming to collect their dishes rather than Nikandros. Still, he knew Damen did not miss the way he visibly tensed. 

When they left, he said “I don’t know how to turn it off.” 

Damen stood and came to his side. “Let me,” he said, hand outstretched. Laurent took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, led to the private bath attached to Damen’s chambers. This, too, had been prepared in advance. He had to admire Damen’s certainty in that. 

It still took conscious effort to allow Damen to undress him, to not resist the feeling of anyone’s hands on his laces except his own. But it was Damen, he reminded himself. He wanted this, as foreign and abstract a concept as it was. It was easier with Damen in front of him again, large and steady and honest in his intentions. 

It was easier still in the heat of the bath, Damen’s hands and mouth on him - gentle and wanting but never taking more than he was ready to give. Laurent was overcome by it. He kissed his way across the scar on Damen’s shoulder, then pressed one more just over his heart. 

“Come to bed with me,” Damen said, his arms wrapped loosely around Laurent’s waist and his face pressed against his wet hair. This time it was nearly a question - a request - more than one of his easy commands. Anyone else might have missed the note of uncertainty in it, but Laurent did not. Damen genuinely wasn’t sure if he would agree after what had happened. 

That, more than anything else, warmed the blood in his veins. By way of response he let one hand drop between Damen’s legs, his touch light, aimless, and pushed up on his toes to press his mouth to the pulse in Damen’s throat. That earned him a groan that was as much a laugh. Damen’s arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked. There was that note of uncertainty again. 

“Mhmm,” Laurent hummed against his chest. He looked up in time to see Damen beam at his response. 

He tried not to notice how carefully Damen moved around him in the time between the bath and finally getting into bed. Tried to ignore how he kept checking on him, or how it strangely relieved the tight pressure in his chest. And then they were back in the expanse of his bed; it still smelled like sex and sweat, like both of them. Again, inevitably, he was surrounded by Damen, but only for a moment as Damen kissed him. 

Damen’s lips dragged against his still-damp skin, pausing here and there to give more attention to certain spots. Laurent would never know how Damen read him so well. He still was not hard by the time Damen made it to his groin, one hand at his hip and the fingers of his other twined with Laurent’s. 

It was hard to be concerned about that when Damen pressed a wet kiss to his head, entirely unphased by his inappropriate quiescence, before continuing lower. Laurent’s eyes screwed shut as he arched against the bed with a quiet gasp. He felt Damen’s hands against the backs of his thighs, guiding his legs up, and resisted the impulse to fight it. 

Damen kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before returning to his more delicate attentions. Somewhere in there, Laurent had twitched to life. He groaned as Damen swallowed him down, needing Damen to know that he appreciated his efforts. That he wanted this. Wanted him. 

After a few minutes of working at him, Damen replaced his mouth with his hand and kissed and licked lower. Again, Laurent felt his breath catch in his chest at the gentle press of Damen’s tongue, the scrape of calloused fingers against him. It was too much, but he wanted all of it so he willed himself to not pull away. 

How long it went on, lips and fingers trading places at uneven intervals, he couldn’t say. If it was seconds, it was an eternity, and he couldn’t help feeling like he was taking too long. Like he required too much effort to please. 

“Damen,” he finally managed, tugging Damen’s damp curls. 

Immediately, Damen pulled away with a wet sucking sound, eyes on him. “Is everything ok?”

“Fine. More than. I just… Don’t know if anything is going to happen.” He turned his head into the pillow so he didn’t have to see Damen’s reaction. 

That reaction was a gentle, chaste kiss against his hip bone. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I just feel bad.”

“Stop,” Damen said, as if it were that simple. 

“It’s taking too long, and I don’t know if it’s going to happen at all, and there isn’t anything in it for you, so-”

“Laurent,” he said, in the tone that pulled at something in his chest. Damen kissed him again, this time just below his navel. Laurent felt himself twitch involuntarily against Damen’s chest at that. He felt Damen’s smile against his skin before he shifted to swallow Laurent again with renewed fervor. 

Laurent tried and failed to stifle a whimper by throwing an arm over his face, causing Damen to pull off again. “Let me see you,” he said, voice rough. He sucked a bruise into the skin of Laurent’s hip while he waited for him to move. The small, frustrated, hungry noise he made only caused him to want to hide more. 

But it was Damen, so he let his arm fall to the side. In spite of everything, he’d chosen this. So he let Damen see his reaction when he licked a wet stripe from base to tip, when he fucked inside Laurent with his tongue, his hand stroking him lazily. He’d chosen to trust Damen, he thought with an odd thrill. 

It made no sense from the outside - he realized that. Sometimes even he didn’t understand it, but he also didn’t want to let himself tear what they’d built apart. Certainly he hadn’t intended to allow Damianos to slip past his defences, but once he was in, Laurent couldn’t make the decision to force him back out again. Didn’t want to. So he chose to let him in, and in, and in. And for all that it felt dangerous, was terrifying, he also loved it. Loved how seen, how known Damen made him feel. 

He loved Damen. He’d known that, obviously, but as he came to the conclusion once more it overtook him in a physical wave. The thought pushed him over the edge and he felt himself shoot his release over Damen’s fist and his own chest as his nerves pulsed with pleasure. 

As he came down, he thought he heard a quiet groan from Damen. But no, both of Damen’s hands were still on him, so he couldn’t have- Laurent’s thought trailed off as Damen nuzzled against his hip, and he moved to run his fingers through his hair. 

“Well that was new,” Damen said, muffled. His lips tickled Laurent’s oversensitive skin. 

“Wait, did you-?”

“Mmmmhmm,” Damen hummed. The vibrations made him shiver. 

Laurent huffed a quiet laugh, still absently combing Damen’s messy curls with his fingers. After another quiet moment, Damen rolled over, freeing him to get up. He stood up, his breathing still slightly unsteady as he went to find a cloth to clean them both with. 

“You do know that I love you, right?” he asked. He was astounded by how difficult it was to say, even after what they’d just done. Laurent distracted himself by pouring a glass of water, staring at the veins in the marble floor as he drank. 

“It had occurred to me as a possibility,” Damen replied. Laurent could hear the teasing smile in his voice. When he finally looked up, Damen’s expression was something entirely different. It was so soft that Laurent nearly felt the need to leave the room. He placed the empty goblet on the table and forced himself to return to bed. 

Damen took his hands in his own, kissed his palms, his wrists, the gold cuff that matched Damen’s. Laurent thought that he might explode - he didn’t know how to handle the all-consuming feeling that rushed through him. “It is mutual, you know. The feeling. And it is one that I intend to choose and maintain until the end of my days.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on tumblr @acquitarte!


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